


Gonna Give All My Secrets Away

by the_sky_is_forever



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Implied/Referenced Cheating, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Reconciliation, Secret Relationship, no cheating actually occurs really it's complicated i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5870143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sky_is_forever/pseuds/the_sky_is_forever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire are dating, but aren't telling anyone. Courfeyrac sets up Enjolras on a date with a guy he met through work. Enjolras goes, because he can't tell Courfeyrac he's dating Grantaire. Grantaire finds out and thinks Enjolras is cheating on him. Complications ensue. </p><p>“I’ve organised a blind date for you and my friend that I met through work,” Courfeyrac admits in a rush.<br/>Enjolras blinks in shock. “But I’m-” He stops. He almost told Courfeyrac the one secret he’s not supposed to be telling people.<br/>“You’re not busy,” Courfeyrac says, rolling his eyes as he unsuccessfully interprets what the end of that sentence was going to be.<br/>Enjolras swallows. “Who is he?” he asks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gonna Give All My Secrets Away

**Author's Note:**

> yo i totally bashed this out over the course of this evening if you spot any mistakes give me a shout i hope you enjoy thanks for reading :)

Courfeyrac throws himself down into the seat next to Enjolras. He taps his fingers impatiently as Enjolras ignores him, continuing to type on his laptop. He takes a sip of his coffee, puts it down, and turns to look at Courfeyrac. “Hello,” he says.

“Hello,” Courfeyrac says, grinning, and Enjolras hates that grin. It’s the grin of a Courfeyrac that is up to something.

“What have you done?” Enjolras asks, bluntly.

“Before you say no, I’ve already checked your schedule and you’re free tonight, and I think it will do you good to get out of the house okay? I’ve organised a blind date for you and my friend that I met through work,” Courfeyrac admits in a rush.

Enjolras blinks in shock. “But I’m-” He stops. He almost told Courfeyrac the one secret he’s not supposed to be telling people.

“You’re _not_ busy,” Courfeyrac says, rolling his eyes as he unsuccessfully interprets what the end of that sentence was going to be.

Enjolras swallows. “Who is he?” he asks, unable to think of a way out of this.

“His name’s Feuilly and you’ll _adore_ him, I promise. You’ve got a lot in common,” Courfeyrac says, “and a lot not in common, I suppose, but in a good way. I just know you’re going to love each other.”

“Let’s not throw the L word around before a date,” Enjolras says, and his heart is hammering in his chest and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do right now. “Um, sure, I guess. Where… Where did you say I’d meet him?”

“The Corinthe?” Courfeyrac says, hesitantly. “I know the food’s not _great,_ but it’s been getting better, and I figured best to be somewhere familiar; I know what you’re like with new people.”

Enjolras tries to give him a thankful smile, but all he can think about is the fact that Grantaire often visits the Corinthe. Grantaire’s the one that _found_ it, of course he goes there. He’s close with the owners.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll be there.” _Please let Grantaire not be there tonight._

Courfeyrac breaks into a smile. “You will?” he asks, happily. “Oh, that’s great, I’d hate to cancel on Feuilly; he’s such a nice guy. You’ll really like him, I promise.”

Enjolras forces a smile. “I can’t wait,” he lies.

“Great, I said half six, so be there on time, Enjolras. Please, please, don’t stand him up, okay?” Courfeyrac pleads, looking at Enjolras with some degree of severity.

“I won’t,” Enjolras promises. This is a nightmare. “I really should finish this off,” he then says, nodding towards his work, and Courfeyrac thankfully takes the hint and gives him a kiss on the cheek before rushing off to do whatever it is that Courfeyrac does in his free time.

Enjolras sighs and resists the temptation to slam his head against the table. Instead, he takes out his phone and dejectedly texts Grantaire.

To R: _Please don’t be mad. Something came up. Can I come over tomorrow night instead of tonight? I love you x_

Grantaire texts back almost instantly.

From R: _oh, okay. yeah sure I’ll see you tomorrow then. love you too x_

To R: _You’re amazing. Thank you so much. :)_

From R: _I still cant believe you use smileys :)_

Enjolras laughs and turns off the screen, putting his phone down on the table and goes back to his work, trying to put the thought of the evening to come out of his mind. He wants to see Grantaire so badly, and instead he’s going on a date with some other guy, all because Grantaire doesn’t want to tell people they’re dating. Fuck.

It’s rolling on towards four o’clock when he packs up his laptop into his bag and pulls on his jacket to head home. Once there, he doesn’t bother putting effort into his outfit, just puts on a clean shirt and cleans the blue ink that he’s got on his chin off.

He starts walking to the Corinthe at six, arriving just before half past. Madame Houcheloup waves at him from the bar, and he walks over, realising that he doesn’t know how he’s going to find his blind date. He edges his way in between two women and leans on the bar to talk to her.

“You look nice,” she says, gesturing at his shirt with the empty glass she’s holding.

He runs a hand over the fabric, self-consciously. “Blind date,” he says, awkwardly. She looks at him sharply. If anyone were to know about him and Grantaire, it would be her. Enjolras hates the fact that he doesn’t want her to know in this moment. He knows what he’s doing is horrible to Grantaire.

“Blind date?” a voice asks, and Enjolras looks past one of the women to see a ginger man wearing a bowtie sitting at the bar. “You’re not Enjolras, are you?”

“I am,” Enjolras says. “Are you Feuilly?”

The man smiles. “That I am,” he says, and holds out a hand round the woman. Enjolras laughs and moves round her to shake it and stop talking across her. “It’s nice to meet you,” Feuilly says.

“You too,” Enjolras says, smiling back. “Courfeyrac says he knows you from work?”

“Yes,” Feuilly says, “though not in the way you’re thinking. I don’t work with him. He was my lawyer, briefly.”

“Oh,” Enjolras says, surprised. “Am I allowed to ask why?”

“Um, he helped me get emancipation when my parents died,” he admits, fingers tapping for a second on the bar top.  

“How old were you?” Enjolras asks, frowning.

“Seventeen. Before you say it, I was one of his first cases, so don’t worry. I’m not that much younger than you,” Feuilly says, grinning, and Enjolras finds himself grinning back. He didn’t mean to enjoy himself. “He’s a good guy, though. Kept in touch with me til I was eighteen to make sure I was all right. We stopped talking after that, and then we ran into each other a few months back,” Feuilly tells him, smiling. “How do you know Courfeyrac?”

“We’ve been best friends since we were kids,” Enjolras says. “We did everything together.” He smiles, thinking about what great times they’ve had.

“You must be close,” Feuilly says.

“We are,” Enjolras says. “Oh! Drink, do you want a drink?” he asks, clumsily.

Feuilly laughs and lifts his glass of beer. Enjolras blushes.

“Right,” he says. “Well, do you want to head upstairs and get some food?”

“That would be nice,” Feuilly says, and finishes off his beer quickly before getting to his feet.

Feuilly puts his hand on the small of Enjolras’ back as they make their way upstairs, and Enjolras knows he’s leading him on, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t tell Feuilly, because Feuilly will probably tell Courfeyrac, and if Courfeyrac knows, then everyone knows. He can’t do that to Grantaire. That was the one rule Grantaire had. Don’t tell people. And as much as that hurts, Enjolras can’t break that rule.

They take a seat and look over the menus as they talk a little about Enjolras’ work, and it’s nice. It’s comfortable. Feuilly is funny and smart and very interesting, and Enjolras can’t help but get caught up in the conversation. He feels relaxed and loose. He’d rather be with Grantaire, of course, and it would have been better if this situation could have been avoided, because at the end of the night Enjolras is going to have to tell Feuilly that they’d make better friends than lovers and he hates that he had to ditch Grantaire for this, but Feuilly is nice, and it could be a lot worse.

The food is, as ever, not that great, but Courfeyrac was telling the truth when he said it’s been getting better. Enjolras has eaten worse here.

At the end of the night, they collect their coats and split the bill and head outside together. Feuilly turns to Enjolras outside and smiles. “This was a lot of fun, you seem like a great guy,” he says.

“Yeah,” Enjolras agrees. “Yeah, you too.”

And then Feuilly leans in to kiss him, and Enjolras quickly tilts his head away, and Feuilly ends up kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I-” Feuilly says, blushing and pulling back. “I’m sorry, I should have asked, I-”

Enjolras sighs, and he feels awful. “No, I’m sorry. Look, I really- You’re very nice, and I really enjoyed tonight, you’re fascinating and clever, but I… I think we’re better off as friends?”

“Oh,” Feuilly says, and Enjolras hates the disappointment in his voice. “Oh, okay. Um, so no chance of a second date?”

Enjolras smiles somewhat sadly. “No, I’m sorry. I’d love to see you again, really, just… not as a date.”

Feuilly attempts a smile. “That’s fair enough.” He swallows. “Well, I enjoyed tonight, at any rate.”

“I’m glad,” Enjolras says. “I did too.” He leans in and kisses Feuilly on the cheek goodbye. “I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

Feuilly smiles. “Thank you,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you around, then?”

“Absolutely,” Enjolras says, confidently. “Make sure Courfeyrac brings you along to a meeting, sometime. I’m sure you’d be a great asset to our work.”

Feuilly’s smile turns into a grin. “I’d love to help out,” he says. “See you.”

“See you,” Enjolras replies, and then they go their separate ways.

Enjolras walks down the street, pulling his coat tight around him in the cool night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see a text from Grantaire. He smiles automatically as he opens it up.

From R: _hey where were you tonight? x_

Enjolras frowns in confusion. He stops walking to text back.

To R: _We talked about this. I’m coming over tomorrow, something came up tonight. x_

He stays stood still, frowning down at his phone as he waits for Grantaire’s response.

From R: _no I know, I was wondering what came up x_

To R: _I just had a lot to get done for work tomorrow. There was a misunderstanding in one of my cases and Bahorel and I had to go over some stuff. I promise I’ll be over tomorrow night x_

He feels the guilt rise in him as he lies to Grantaire, but he knows the truth will only upset Grantaire, and it’s not worth it. Not when it’s never going to happen again.

From R: _well are you done with work? you could come over now? x_

To R: _I am, actually. I can, if you want me to. x_

There’s a longer pause this time, and Enjolras is just about to text again to say that he is coming over, because he’s feeling a bit concerned about Grantaire, when he gets the response.

From R: _don’t bother. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you._

To R: _Okay, I love you too. Get some sleep, love. See you tomorrow x_

He puts his phone back in his pocket and starts up walking again, chewing on this inside of his cheek as he hopes that Grantaire is okay. Sometimes he gets a little in his head, and Enjolras likes to be there for him. He feels worried that cancelling their date has made Grantaire overthink things. He doesn’t know what else to do, other than go over there, and Grantaire told him not to.

He’ll text again when he gets home, he decides, and he’ll go over as early as he can get out of work tomorrow.

When he gets home, he flops into bed, kicking off his shoes and wriggling out of his jeans and shirt. He calls Grantaire instead of texting, because it’s easier and takes less effort. Grantaire picks up on the seventh ring.

“Hey, Enj,” Grantaire says, and Enjolras smiles because it’s so nice to hear his voice.

“Hey,” he replies, happily. “I’m just about to go to sleep, but I just wanted to talk to you first. I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”

Grantaire is silent for a second. “You saw me two days ago,” he says, and his voice is lacking its usual humour.

“Exactly, days,” Enjolras says, and he’s starting to frown again. “Are you all right? Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

“I’m sure,” Grantaire says. “Get some rest before you work yourself into an early grave,” he then adds. The words sound like him, but the tone is completely lacking in teasing.

“I will,” Enjolras says. “R?”

“Yeah?” Grantaire replies.

“I love you,” Enjolras says. “You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Grantaire replies.

“Okay,” Enjolras says, voice quiet. He breathes out heavily, and he feels sick to his stomach for reasons he can’t name. Grantaire isn’t saying anything. Enjolras feels awful. “Well, aren’t you going to say it back?” he says at last, and he can’t say why but he suddenly feels like he might cry. He can’t stand Grantaire being distant.

“I love you, Enjolras,” Grantaire says, obediently, and somehow that’s even worse.

“I love you, too,” Enjolras says, again, for good measure. He needs Grantaire to know that. “I love you.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Grantaire says. “You love me. I love you. We’re a couple of in love losers.”

“R… Are you sure you’re okay?” Enjolras asks, uncertainly.

“I’m fine. I need to get some sleep. Goodnight, Enjolras.”

“Goodnight,” Enjolras whispers. He manages to say, “I love you,” one more time before Grantaire hangs up, and Enjolras curls up on his side and tries to get the flat sound of Grantaire’s voice out of his head.

 

The next morning he wakes up, still clutching his phone in his hand. He heads off to the offices, stopping at the Musain for a coffee on the way. Bahorel, surprisingly, is already in when he gets there, and Enjolras raises an eyebrow at him in lieu of a comment. Bahorel grunts in response and picks up a pile of papers, dropping them onto Enjolras’ desk.

“Somebody fucked up,” Bahorel says, “and I think it might have been me.”

Enjolras supposes this is karma. Lie about something going wrong at work and something will inevitably go wrong at work.

The day is long, and Enjolras has the worst headache by the time he leaves at 6pm. He treads heavily to the bus station and rides in silence over to Grantaire’s apartment. The only thing keeping him going is knowing that he’s going to see Grantaire.

He knocks on the door, tiredly, and Grantaire opens it.

“Can we take a nap?” Enjolras asks, walking into the flat and collapsing on the sofa.

“If you want,” Grantaire says. “Let’s go to the bed, though.”

Enjolras follows, toeing off his shoes as he goes. He strips down in the bedroom, getting rid of his shirt and slacks and falling into Grantaire’s soft bed. He makes a wordless noise of complaint that Grantaire isn’t in the bed yet, and he watches as Grantaire smiles a little and starts stripping too.

“You all right?” Enjolras asks, snuggling up to Grantaire, preening when Grantaire wraps an arm around him.

“Grand,” Grantaire replies. “You?”

“No,” Enjolras says, sulkily. “I’ve got a terrible headache, and I had to cancel on our date last night.” He presses an apologetic kiss to Grantaire’s collarbone.

“Get some sleep,” Grantaire says, softly, stroking his hair gently. Enjolras smiles and allows himself to be lulled to sleep, pressed against Grantaire.

 

When he wakes, he’s starving, and he rolls on top of Grantaire to wake him up too. “Wha’ time issit?” Grantaire asks, fuzzily.

Enjolras peers at the clock. “About ten. I’m hungry.”

“Order pizza?” Grantaire suggests.

“Healthy,” Enjolras comments.

“So get vegetable pizza,” Grantaire says, almost smiling.

Enjolras kisses him on the lips and smiles down at him. “Come on. Get up with me to order pizza and I’ll blow you later.”

Grantaire actually laughs at that, and that’s the strongest reaction he’s had since two days ago. “Since you’re so persuasive.”

Enjolras does get a vegetable pizza, and Grantaire orders a Hawaiian, claiming that he’s supporting his heritage. Enjolras rolls his eyes and steals a bite. They end up back in bed, kissing until they no longer taste like pizza, and Enjolras rolls his hips against Grantaire’s lazily until they’re both hard and rubbing against one another.

They cuddle in the afterglow, and Enjolras peppers the side of Grantaire’s neck with kisses. Grantaire captures his lips in a languid kiss, and Enjolras relaxes into it, happily. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“Love you too,” Grantaire replies.

They drift off to sleep, wrapped up in each others’ arms, and Enjolras wants to bring up the No Telling People rule, but now isn’t the time, and he falls asleep without saying anything about it.

 

The next day he wakes up early and slips out of Grantaire’s embrace. He leaves a note on the side about having to go to work, and to drop by for lunch if he wants, he’ll come up with a lie for Bahorel. He spends the whole day waiting for Grantaire to show up and tries to convince himself that he isn’t crushed when he doesn’t.

He goes back to his own flat that night, and though they talk on the phone, things don’t feel quite right, and Enjolras is left feeling empty.

 

Enjolras is talking to Combeferre, sitting on a table top in the Musain, because no matter how many times Musichetta tells him not to do that, he always forgets. Combeferre stops talking midsentence and smiles at someone over Courfeyrac’s shoulder.

Enjolras twists round to see Courfeyrac coming in, with Feuilly at his side. They both smile over at Enjolras and Combeferre, and then Feuilly grabs Courfeyrac’s arm and says something to him quietly that makes Courfeyrac frown and start to argue before shrugging and accepting whatever it is Feuilly said.

The pair make their way over, and Enjolras stands up to give them both kisses on the cheek in greeting. He also gives Feuilly a hug and says, “I’m so glad you came,” with a big smile.

“How could I not?” Feuilly replies.

Enjolras doesn’t see Grantaire slip out of the room.

 

Grantaire sits staring at the road, sat on a wall outside the Musain. Joly and Bossuet, having followed him out, sit down beside him.

“Are you all right?” Bossuet asks.

Grantaire swallows, tightly. He tries not to cry; he thinks he might actually feel too hollow to cry anyway. “Enjolras is cheating on me,” he says.

Joly and Bossuet are silent, and he can feel them looking at him.

“We’ve been dating for about six months. And now he’s cheating on me. With that new guy in there,” Grantaire tells him. “I’m sure of it.”

His friends clearly don’t know what to say, because they don’t say anything.

Grantaire keeps talking so they don’t have to. “I don’t know what to do,” he says. “Am I supposed to confront him? Break up with him so he can be with whatever the fuck his name is? Should I just pretend I don’t know and keep on as normal for as long as I can?”

“Grantaire,” Joly manages to say at last, sounding sad and soft. “I’m sure he’s not… He wouldn’t. Enjolras isn’t the cheating type. He just wouldn’t, R.”

“Do you have any proof?” Bossuet asks, sounding doubtful.

“Well he’s been working a lot more lately, and I was already suspicious, and the other night he texted to cancel on our date. Said something came up at work. So I went out to the Corinthe with Éponine and Jehan since I no longer had plans, and guess who I saw? Enjolras. With that guy in there. Looking pretty friendly. I texted him afterwards, asking what work thing had him caught up. I don’t know what I wanted. Maybe I was hoping that guy was a client, or… or that Enjolras would just come clean and then I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore, but he… he lied. He lied and said someone fucked up at work and he was going over stuff with Bahorel. He’s cheating on me,” he says, heavily, “there’s no other explanation.” He puts his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do. He’s not changed. He still says he loves me, and still kisses me the exact same, and I don’t… I don’t know what to do with that. Because if he doesn’t seem any different _now_ , does that mean he was never just with me? How long has he known this guy? Or others?” He looks up at his friends. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to kill him,” Bossuet says, venomously. “I’m going to fucking murder him. How _dare_ he?”

“Bossuet, don’t,” Grantaire says, pathetically. “What’s the point?”

“What’s the point?” Bossuet exclaims. “He’s _cheating_ on you, Grantaire. He’s a dick. Break up with him.”

“I can’t,” Grantaire protests. “I can’t, I love him, I can’t.”

Joly reaches for his hand and squeezes it. “R,” he says, gently. “He can’t get away with using you like this. People don’t get to cheat on other people without consequences. He’s using you.”

Grantaire can feel himself breaking down, feels a tear roll down his cheek. “But I love him,” he says.

“That doesn’t give him a right to use you, Grantaire,” Joly says, gently. “Please, R. You deserve better.”

“Better than _Enjolras_?” Grantaire asks.

“Well, it seems Enjolras isn’t really the person we thought he was. That pains me to say, but R, darling, you deserve someone who really loves you, who doesn’t lie to you,” Joly says.

“Don’t tell him I told you, please,” Grantaire says. “Please don’t talk to him about this.”

“R…” Bossuet says.

“No! I’m not supposed to tell people about us. He said not to. Please. Don’t tell him I told you,” Grantaire begs.

Joly makes a soft noise. “Grantaire, what I’m hearing is leading me to believe that your relationship with Enjolras is emotionally abusive,” he says, in what he must mean to be a level voice. It isn’t. His voice shakes. Grantaire is falling apart.

“I love him, I’ve always loved him, I can’t lose him,” Grantaire says. “Please, I can’t leave him.”

Joly sighs and rests his forehead against Grantaire’s shoulder.

“Oh, R,” Bossuet mumbles. “You need to talk to him about this. Give him a second chance, if you must, but you can’t go on pretending you don’t know.”

“And R?” Joly adds, “you’ve got to make him stop keeping you a secret. You’re wonderful, and he shouldn’t want to keep you hidden. If he loves you, he should be willing to shout it from the fucking rooftops, okay?”

Grantaire nods, miserably. “What if he leaves me?” he asks in a whisper.

“Then it’s going to be rough for a while, but I think it would be for the best,” Bossuet says, heavily. “R, he’s making you keep your relationship a secret, which you obviously don’t want to do, and he’s sleeping around with other guys. He’s a cheat, okay? He’s not worth it. You deserve so much better.”

“How can you say this about _Enjolras_?” Grantaire asks.

“Because it turns out he’s not who we thought he was. There’s still good in him, obviously, we’ve all seen how hard he works for the good of the people, but anyone who can treat you like this is not worth your time,” Joly says, fiercely.

“Okay,” Grantaire says, quietly. “I think I’m going to go home. If… If he asks about me, just say I didn’t feel well.”

Joly and Bossuet both nod. “Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Bossuet asks.

“I’ll be fine,” Grantaire says, flatly.

“Try not to drink too much,” Joly says, gently, pressing a kiss to his temple. “We love you. Call us if you need us.”

“Okay,” Grantaire says again.

The trio hop down off the wall, and Joly and Bossuet pull Grantaire into a tight hug before kissing him on either cheek and letting him go. Grantaire gives them a half-hearted wave goodbye as he starts off down the street.

He makes it home and into bed before he gets a text from Enjolras.

From Enj: _Joly and Bossuet say you’re ill? You should have said something; I could have come with you. I hope you’re all right. Text me if you need me. You’re more important than one meeting, R. Love you x_

Grantaire stares at the text and doesn’t reply until the screen goes dark. Then he lights it up and repeats the process. Repeats the process. Repeats the process. Again and again til he falls asleep staring at the black words on his white screen. _You’re more important. Love you._

Grantaire feels lost and alone. He wishes Enjolras was here. He doesn’t text him.

 

Enjolras goes home after the meeting, originally. He’s taken off his shoes and sat down on his bed before he realises he feels weirdly on edge. He stands up, looking around his flat, wondering if something’s out of place to make him feel so uncomfortable. In the end, he pulls on his shoes and heads back out. Figuring that maybe he just needs to move, he starts walking, heading in the direction of the river. He doesn’t make it that far.

He’s in Grantaire’s neighbourhood, and he looks around the darkened streets. There’s no one to be seen, so no one sees him as he heads towards Grantaire’s building and slowly climbs the stairs. He reaches Grantaire’s door and stares at it for too long.

He unlocks it with the key Grantaire gave him two months ago and lets himself in. Leaving his shoes and jacket by the door he sneaks into Grantaire’s room to find him sleeping in bed. He sits down on the bed and puts his hand on Grantaire’s shoulder. “R?” he says, quietly.

Grantaire stirs, rolling over and cracking open his eyes. “Enj?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s me. Mind if I…?” he half-asks.

“Sure,” Grantaire says, rolling back over, away from Enjolras. Enjolras pauses, looking down at his boyfriend, and then he slips under the covers and wraps his arms around Grantaire, hating it when Grantaire tenses up instead of relaxing against him.

“R, tell me what’s wrong,” Enjolras says, pressing his nose against the back of Grantaire’s neck, feeling utterly useless.

Grantaire takes a deep breath. He starts to shake, and there’s a hitch in his breathing, and Enjolras sits up and leans over him. “Grantaire,” he says, pulling Grantaire round to face him.

“I’m so sorry,” Grantaire says. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Enjolras asks. “What are you sorry for?” He touches Grantaire’s face, wiping a tear away from under his eye with his thumb.

“I just… I love you so much,” Grantaire says, sniffing loudly.

Enjolras smiles. “What’s so bad about that?” he asks. “I love you, too.”

“No, you don’t,” Grantaire protests, miserably.

Now Enjolras frowns, smile dropping instantly. “What do you mean? Of course I love you. I think I’d know, R.”

Grantaire shakes his head. “I just… don’t understand. I don’t understand at all,” he says. “Was it… Was it me? Was _I_ not enough, or… could it have been anyone?”

Enjolras puts his hand on Grantaire’s knee. “Love, I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he tells Grantaire. “Of course you’re enough for me. I… I don’t understand.”

“Just tell me the truth, Enjolras. Just say it, and I can forgive you. Just stop lying to me,” Grantaire begs. “I can forgive it all, it you just stop lying. I love you so much, I can- we can move past this.”

“Move past _what_?” Enjolras asks. “R, I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Stop lying,” Grantaire pleads. “I _know_ , Enjolras, so stop lying.”

“ _What am I lying about_?” Enjolras demands.

“You’re _cheating on me_ , okay? I _know_ , so stop lying, just stop lying. I can forgive you, I can, just admit it,” Grantaire begs. “I just need you to admit it. Own up to it, already.”

Enjolras is utterly speechless. He’s stunned. “ _Grantaire_ ,” he manages, shocked. “I’m not cheating on you! How could you think that?” he asks, trying to recover.

Grantaire lets out a sob. “You won’t even admit it, oh God, oh God.” He pulls away from Enjolras curling in on himself, and Enjolras doesn’t know what to do.

“Grantaire, _please_ , please listen to me. I’m not cheating on you, I couldn’t, I love you,” Enjolras tries to tell him. “Why? Why- How could you think I’m cheating on you?” Grantaire is sobbing into his hands, but Enjolras is completely stunned, dry-eyed and horrified. “R, R, please,” Enjolras begs.

“Get out,” Grantaire moans.

“R-”

“Get out!” he screams, shoving at him. Enjolras stumbles off the bed, standing in the middle of Grantaire’s room in his socks. “Go away, go away, go away!”

“I’m not cheating on you,” Enjolras shouts. “I’m not!”

“Leave me alone,” Grantaire screams.

“R-”

“Leave me alone!”

Enjolras staggers from the room, hands buried in his hair, completely at a loss, he can feel the emotion welling up inside him, threatening to burst out in tears. He manages to pull on his shoes, but he forgets his coat in his state, and he gets out onto the street in a blur.

He staggers and ends up sitting on the pavement, feeling dizzy and sick. The tears are there but they won’t come, and he feels completely lost.

Eventually he gets to his feet and starts to walk home. He’s not really looking where he’s going, just walking and walking. He gets to his apartment block, and then turns around and walks to Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s instead.

By the time he’s knocking on the door, it’s coming up to two in the morning and he’s sure they won’t answer, really. He keeps knocking anyway, and eventually the door swings open to reveal Combeferre looking half-asleep and grumpy, just in a pair of sweatpants and his glasses at a bit of an angle.

“Enjolras?” he asks, sounding confused.

Enjolras just nods, unable to find his voice.

“Come in,” Combeferre says, suddenly, ushering him in and closing the door quietly. “What is it?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

Enjolras swallows and doesn’t know what to say. Courfeyrac appears in the doorway. “What’s going on?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Combeferre replies. “Enjolras, come sit down,” he says, shepherding Enjolras towards the sofa. “Get a glass of water,” he tells Courfeyrac, who immediately does as asked.

When Courfeyrac gets back with the glass of water, Enjolras sips at it slowly. He startles as someone else comes into the living room, and he stares blankly at Jehan, who’s rubbing at their eyes and frowning.

“What’s happening?” Jehan asks.

“What are you doing here?” Enjolras asks.

Jehan shrugs. “I sleep with these two sometimes,” he says, which seems to be purposefully ambiguous, and Enjolras is too tired and upset to really think about it. “What’s happening?” Jehan repeats.

The corners of Enjolras’ mouth are tugging down against his will, and there’s a lump in his throat that’s making it hard to breathe. He feels sick again, and he takes another sip of water.

“Enjolras?” Combeferre prompts, gently.

“Grantaire thinks I’m cheating on him,” he says in a rush, and then takes in a gasping, broken breath. His jaw is wobbling. He doesn’t want to cry.

“Grantaire?” Courfeyrac asks, confused.

“Grantaire and he have been dating for a few months now,” Jehan says, quietly, and Enjolras looks up at them, shocked.

“How do you know that?” he asks.

“I’m observant,” Jehan says.

“It’s been six months, and now he thinks I’m cheating on him. I don’t… I don’t know what I did,” Enjolras says. “And now he hates me, and he’s going to break up with me, and I don’t know how to convince him that I’d never cheat on him.”

“But-” Courfeyrac says. “But you went on that date with Feuilly,” he says.

Enjolras looks up at him. “Grantaire doesn’t know that. And it didn’t mean anything. I just wasn’t allowed to talk about the relationship, and I couldn’t think up a way out of it, and I told Feuilly I just wanted to be friends.”

“Hang on,” Jehan says. “When was this?”

“Saturday night,” Enjolras says.

“I was out with R Saturday,” Jehan says. “You didn’t… You didn’t go to the Corinthe, did you?”

Enjolras’ eyes widen. “I did. Tell me… Tell me he wasn’t there.”

Jehan stares at him, speechless. He nods.

Enjolras screws his eyes shut, and he can’t stop the tear that slips out from under his lashes. “I didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t cheating, I wasn’t,” he says. “I couldn’t, I love him.”

Courfeyrac’s hands are over his heart as he looks at Enjolras, a pained expression on his face. Jehan is pale-faced and still. Combeferre stares at the ground, hands on his knees.

“I love him,” Enjolras says again, determined to make them all understand. He’s not cheating on Grantaire. The thought of it is unbearable.

“We know, Enjolras,” Combeferre says, quietly. “But why did you never tell us you were together?”

“Grantaire didn’t want to. He said we should… keep it a secret.” He hangs his head. “I shouldn’t have told you. He’s going to hate me, I can’t have that, I can’t have him hate me. Don’t tell him I told you.”

“Enjolras,” Combeferre says, softly, “you need to talk to Grantaire. Explain the situation. What you did was wrong, but completely understandable.”

“He won’t talk to me. He told me to leave him alone,” Enjolras says.

Combeferre sighs. “How about we all get some sleep, and in the morning we can go see Grantaire,” he suggests, visibly suppressing a yawn.

“Oh,” Enjolras says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you all up.”

His friends smile kindly but tiredly at him. “That’s all right,” Jehan says. They offer him a hand. “How about you and I sleep in the guest room?” they suggest.

“That sounds good,” Enjolras replies.

He lets his friends lead him into the guest room and he undresses in a daze before curling up in bed. Jehan curls up around him, holding him close.

In the darkness, he tells Jehan, “I can’t lose him.”

Jehan doesn’t reply, just squeezes him tighter.

 

Grantaire wakes up and calls Joly and Bossuet. It’s early, and they come over anyway. Even on Joly’s day off. He doesn’t deserve them.

When they arrive, he says, “I need you to stop me from talking to Enjolras.”

They exchange a sad look. “It’s over?” Bossuet asks.

“Not officially, but I need to distance myself so there’s a chance I could make it be over,” Grantaire replies. He’s not crying anymore. He speaks with a straightforwardness that only comes from feeling that nothing is real.

The three of them sit on the sofa watching films on the TV, and Grantaire doesn’t take in a single plot line.

Enjolras knocks on the door at about three. “Please let me in, Grantaire,” Enjolras calls when Grantaire doesn’t answer. “I’ve got a key,” he reminds him.

Grantaire looks at Joly with something close to fear in his eyes, and Joly goes to the door to get rid of Enjolras. Grantaire stays sat on the sofa, he can’t see them and they can’t see him, but he can hear every word that is said.

“He doesn’t want to see you, you dick,” Joly says, angrily.

“I didn’t cheat on him,” Enjolras replies, sounding upset. “Please, I can explain everything. Feuilly’s just a friend, please. I can explain.”

“Go on then. Explain to me how the fuck you could betray my best friend like this,” Joly says, still just as angry.

“Please, it’s not what he thinks. It’s not,” Enjolras says, begging. “Let me talk to him. I can explain, honest. It’s all a misunderstanding. Please, Joly, I love him, let me see him.”

Joly doesn’t reply, and Grantaire tenses up, thinking that his resolve might be slipping, and he might have to face Enjolras himself. He hears someone else yell Enjolras’ name – thinks it might be Courfeyrac – and then the door slams shut, and Joly reappears in the front room, looking furious.

“I love that man like a brother, but right now I hate him,” he says, and flops onto the sofa, joining Bossuet and Grantaire.

 

“Enjolras!” Courfeyrac shouts, reaching the top of the stairs. He sees Joly slam the door in Enjolras’ face and hears Combeferre and Jehan coming up the stairs behind him. “Enjolras, I told you to wait for us,” Courfeyrac says, a little angrily.

Enjolras just steps backwards away from the door, looking crushed. He ignores Courfeyrac completely. Combeferre and Jehan reach the top of the stairs. Enjolras steps back towards the door, putting his palm flat against the wood.

“R?” he calls. “I know you can hear me. Please, let me explain.” He takes a deep breath. He leans his forehead against the door, and starts to talk.

 

Grantaire walks towards the door, slowly. Enjolras is talking on the other side, explaining, and Grantaire feels completely lost.

“It _was_ a date,” Enjolras says, as Grantaire reaches the door, putting his palm flat against it. “It was, and I know that’s wrong, but I went there with the intention of letting him down at the end, because I love you. I had to go, I didn’t know what else to do. Everyone would have found out and we- we’re not telling people, right? Except everyone knows now anyway. And I’m sorry that you had to see me on a date with him, but you have to understand that I would never cheat on you, I didn’t it to protect you- to protect us, because you don’t want people to know, and I love and respect you. Feuilly’s great, but he’s not _you_ , Grantaire. You’re the only person I ever want to be with, which is ridiculous because you’re aggravating and so fucking pretentious, but hell, so am I, and I love you for it. I want to spend the rest of my _life_ with you; you have to understand that I’d never cheat on you. R, please. Please.”

Enjolras falls silent, and Grantaire stares at the door. He knows Joly and Bossuet are stood behind him, but for once they’re both completely silent. Grantaire swallows.

“Okay,” Enjolras then says. “I guess I’ve said my piece. Just know I love you, okay?” He takes a breath loud enough for Grantaire to hear through the door. “I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you alone now. Call me? If- if you want to talk. I’d, uh, really appreciate that. I love you.”

Grantaire leans his head against the door, and he hears Enjolras step away, there’s a quiet murmuring, too quiet to distinguish words. Grantaire takes a few deep breaths, and then pulls open the door.

“Enjolras, wait,” he says, stepping out into the hall.

Enjolras freezes at the top of the stairs, tucked under Courfeyrac’s arm. He turns around, emotions scrawled plainly across his face. “R,” he says.

“Would you, um, would you like to come in?” Grantaire asks.

Enjolras takes a few quick steps in his direction, away from Courfeyrac. “Yes,” he says, almost desperately.

Grantaire steps back inside his flat, gesturing awkwardly for Enjolras to follow him.

Joly and Bossuet are hovering awkwardly in the living room when Grantaire gets there. “Would you guys mind… leaving?” he asks them.

“No, of course not,” Joly says, giving Grantaire a kiss on the cheek, before taking hold of Bossuet’s hand and leaving quickly.

Grantaire turns to look at Enjolras. “Would you like a drink?” he asks, nonsensically.

“I think we should talk,” Enjolras replies.

Grantaire nods. “What you said… all of that is true?” he asks.

“ _Yes_ ,” Enjolras says. “I promise.”

Grantaire nods. “Why wouldn’t you just _talk to me_ about it?” he asks.

Enjolras shakes his head. “I don’t know, R. I couldn’t at first because Courf was insisting I go, and I couldn’t think up a reason why not, so I said okay, and then I… I just didn’t think it was that big of a deal, since I was only going because I was obligated to and to potentially make a friend, and after I just felt… weird. We were weird after that night, and I know why now, but I didn’t then and I was so busy trying to work out what was wrong that I didn’t _think_ , and I’m so sorry, R. I am. You have to believe me.”

“I do,” Grantaire says. “Enj, I do believe you. I’m upset still, because you went on that date without talking to me about it, but I understand why you did what you did.” He sighs and stares down at the ground. “There’s… actually something I wanted to discuss. It’s a little redundant now, really, but I… The whole no telling people thing… I can’t- I can’t go on like that.” He can’t look at Enjolras. “And I was talking to Joly and Bossuet about it, and they said some things, and admittedly they were angry because they thought you were a cheating scumbag, but they were right. I… I can’t be kept a secret anymore. If you love me, I need you to be okay with loving me _publically_. I don’t need you to be into PDA or whatever, just… I have to be able to talk about it, and talk to you however I want in public, I can’t do that anymore.” He pauses, waiting for Enjolras to say something, _anything_. He chances a glance up at him to see him sitting there staring at Grantaire.

“But-” Enjolras says, looking like he’s thinking hard about something. “But that was _your_ rule.”

“ _What_?” Grantaire asks. “ _No_ , _you_ were the one that said we shouldn’t tell people.”

“Because that’s what _you_ wanted,” Enjolras says.

“What? No!” Grantaire exclaims. “I’ve never wanted that.”

“Neither have I!” Enjolras says, emphatically.

They’re standing a few meters apart in Grantaire’s living room, staring at each other, realising what complete idiots they’ve both been.

“Fuck,” Grantaire says, and his face splits into a grin. Enjolras follows with a disbelieving laugh. “I love you,” Grantaire says.

“I love you too,” Enjolras replies, and suddenly the distance between them is pointless and ridiculous, and they both move at the same time, crashing into each other and wrapping around each other, holding one another as tight as they can. Grantaire’s arms are round Enjolras’ back, and Enjolras wraps his own around the back of Grantaire’s neck, one arm holding Grantaire’s head against his neck as he buries his face in Grantaire’s curls.

Enjolras squeezes his eyes shut and lets himself live in this moment, holding Grantaire against him, knowing just how much he’s loved.

“Never go on a pretend date again,” Grantaire mumbles against Enjolras’ neck.

“Never doubt how much I love you again,” Enjolras replies.

Grantaire pulls back then to look up at Enjolras. “I won’t,” he vows. “Never.”

Enjolras cups Grantaire’s face with both hands and leans down, pressing a kiss against his lips, closing his eyes and pressing all his love for Grantaire into the touch.

“Let’s never mess up like this again,” Grantaire says, smiling against Enjolras’ lips. “For the future, remember: always communicate.”

“Always communicate,” Enjolras echoes, amused. “Got it.”

“Good,” Grantaire says, and then he kisses him again, and everything feels right once more.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a writing blog (theskyis-forever) so come give me a prompt if you wanna also a normal blog (nerds-are-cool) so come say hi if you wanna :)  
> thanks for reading leave a comment if you've got something to say i love hearing from people
> 
> also, if you enjoyed this: [buy me a coffee?](http://ko-fi.com/A831F9U)
> 
> also also, this art by jaimesstump is totally where i got the hug from nerds-are-cool.tumblr.com/post/104681269291 yeah i could embed that link but i'm too fucking lazy right now deal with it but no seriously that art is beautiful please go look at it


End file.
